"The thing about healthy relationships," Mallori started in that I know what I'm talking about and you should listen voice, "is everyone involved has to be willing to make a fool of themselves sometimes. Everyone has to be vulnerable, be comfortable with the discomfort, has to put themselves out there in bare, naked ways."

  "Is that so?" I droned. "Why don't you bottle that and sell it on Instagram, then?"

  "Such a pain in the ass you are," she muttered. "Go call your boyfriend. I have to get the kids bathed and into bed."

  I didn't call. I texted.

  Nothing big, nothing to show my completely freaked-out hand. Nothing like Mallori recommended.

  And an hour later, Jory still hadn't responded.

  With most people, this wouldn't have been an issue. With Jory, it was hella strange. Unless he was truly incapable of responding—driving, showering, frying bacon—he always acknowledged messages, even if only to say "I'll get back to you in a bit." He couldn't deal with giving anyone the impression he was ignoring them.

  I didn't want to think about why he was truly incapable of responding now. I'd done enough of that with Teddy. I'd let myself imagine what he was doing with those other guys and why he wanted them so much more than he wanted me.

  Instead of thinking, I tried to keep myself busy. He'd respond eventually and there was nothing I could do to make time pass more quickly. Watched pots and all. I tidied my room, lifted weights, downed two cups of yogurt while standing in front of the open refrigerator, read a bedtime story to my niece and nephew. I did it all with an eye on my phone, holding my breath for anything.

  Not anything, exactly. I'd fully ignored a bunch of school emails, texts from friends, and a wicked good deal on the newest flavors of Built bars.

  None of it was what I wanted.

  I turned in a helpless circle as I surveyed my basement confines. This wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to be here. Not in this basement, not in this holding pattern of in-between life with Teddy and life after Teddy where I was still waiting for those scars to scab over before I could stop gasping and flinching at every unexplained afternoon hug.

  I didn't want to be here, not when it meant driving myself up the wall trying to figure out what Jory was hiding from me, why he hadn't told me, and whether I was the kind of man who attracted cheaters. Whether I invited this into my life.

  I wanted to finally get on with my life and if Jory wasn't the one because I'd misunderstood everything about him in a major way then I needed to know now. I'd waited too long for—for everything. I couldn't wait any longer.

  Without thinking beyond instinct, I dashed up the stairs and out of the house, grabbing my keys along the way and charging toward my car. It didn't occur to me until reaching the sidewalk that I'd forgotten my shoes. That slowed me down but it didn't stop me.

  Fuck shoes. Shoes didn't matter. It wasn't like I was walking over hot coals or broken glass. The Quincy neighborhood Jory lived in wasn't that bad.

  And—because I wasn't a total beast—I knew my gym bag was in the trunk and I always had an extra set of running shoes in there.

  The dashboard clock informed me it was after nine, which was the middle of the night as far as Jory was concerned. On any other day, I'd care about that big time. I couldn't care about it right now. I couldn't assume responsibility for Jory's needs if it meant displacing mine tonight.

  Even if there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for the hug and the car ride and the secrets, this wouldn't work if I allowed myself to sweep away my needs the way I had time after time with Teddy.

  Taking care of Jory was one of the most fulfilling parts of my life. It was a purpose and a calling unlike any other I'd experienced. I wanted to be the one to tend to his needs and provide him a quiet place to feel safe and settled because he needed that more than anything else.

  I was the one who listened while he unpacked his worries, and I was the one who reminded him to eat, sleep, breathe when the world was too much. I was there when he needed to vent about his mother and sister, politics, and everything else that chafed at him. I did that. I was the one. If he thought someone else could do all that for him, he'd have to tell that to my face.

  And my bare feet too.

  And he'd do it just as soon as I landed at his front door.

  The annoying part of living at Mallori's house west of the city was having to hop on the highway and drive thirty minutes in order to reach Jory's apartment in Quincy. It would've been a million times easier if he lived down the damn street because I was losing my steam with each minute.

  Jory lived in a big, fancy house from some historical era, and it had been subdivided (and re-subdivided) into a lot of small apartments over time. It sounded like a nice idea but the whole thing was a pain in the ass. The parking sucked, for one, and the halls were comically narrow and dark. I lived in a basement—if I thought it was dark, it was fuckin' dark. On top of all that, the so-called apartments were a janky mess of chopped-up bedrooms and parlors and shit. The fuses were always blowing and the ventilation was horrible and there was never enough hot water.

  Jory should've been living in a decent place with reliable parking and hallways that didn't look like the set of a horror movie. He needed a roommate who wasn't some obnoxious jack-off, someone who didn't make his life ten times more complicated with a load of rules and restrictions.

  Now that I thought about it, Jory needed to live with me, not in some shoebox with scary halls. If he wasn't cheating on me, I was going to tell him exactly what I thought about this situation and demand some immediate changes.

  Yeah. That was a mood. If someone handed me a dish of chocolate ice cream with chocolate jimmies right now, I'd argue about that too.

  Because the universe was fucking with me today, I found a parking spot directly outside Jory's building. And since I was dead to rights about this place being totally unacceptable for him, the main door was wedged open with a brick.

  It wasn't until I started jogging up the stairs that I realized I'd forgotten my shoes—again.

  "Oh, fuck it all," I murmured as I rounded the next landing.

  When I reached the third floor, I didn't bother stopping to catch my breath. I banged on the second to last door and rested my hands on my hips.

  The door opened, and Claude, Jory's roommate, stood there, glowering at me. "Can I help you?"

  "I'm here to see Jory and before you go to the trouble of telling me it's past visiting hours, I'll remind you he pays his rent on time, every time, and does more than his share of the communal chores. One late visitor isn't going to kill you and you know it."

  Claude blinked rapidly as his lips parted. "Pardon me but—"

  I stepped around him and headed toward Jory's room. I could hear him speaking as I approached but I was running on too much adrenaline to make sense of his words. I knocked once and reached for the doorknob. "Jory. It's me." I hesitated. Then, "I'm coming in."

  From the other side of the door, I heard him saying, "Can you hold on a minute?"

  I pushed the door open and found him holding a sheaf of papers, his phone pressed to his ear.

  "Max, what—where are your shoes?"

  "Fuck the shoes," I said, waving off that issue. "You—" For all my fuming on the ride over here, I couldn't remember what I'd meant to say. "You didn't text me back."

  He held up a finger, saying into the phone, "I'll call you back. Okay? Yeah. Tonight. I will. Thanks so much." With that, he turned, set the phone and papers on a small desk tucked into the corner. "I was going to text you back, right after I wrapped up a few things. I was working on something." He pivoted, his hands loose at his sides as he considered me. "I promise, Max. It's not like I can forget about you."

  I held out my hands and reached for him but couldn't leave the threshold. "What were you working on?"

  Jory dipped his hands into his pockets. He was still dressed in the steel gray khakis and white button-down with tiny blue diamonds from school today. He'd abandoned his tie at some point and the buttons were open at his collar.

  I wanted to lean in and lick my way up his throat to his sweet lips. Even when I didn't know what to believe, I still wanted him—and maybe that was what was wrong with me. Maybe I didn't know how to turn off my desire to love someone who I believed to be mine and listen to common sense.

  "If I told you," Jory started, "it wouldn't be a surprise."

  "Babe, I can't stand any more surprises." I pressed my palms to my eyes then blew out a huge breath as I raked my fingers through my hair. It was standing in a hundred different directions but that didn't matter. "I saw you. This afternoon."

  He pushed his glasses up his nose, crinkled his forehead. "Where, exactly?"

  I fisted my hands in my hair. "Oh, babe. No. You can't do that to me. Don't make me think about you in multiple situations where I can only assume the worst."

  Jory's lips pulled down into a sharp frown. "What do you mean? What are you assuming?"

  Sensing Claude was lurking over my shoulder, I stepped inside Jory's room and shut the door behind me. Since there were only a few steps separating us, I leaned back against the door. I required that small bit of distance.

  "I saw you hugging someone and then driving off with him." I crossed my arms over my chest. "What am I supposed to assume?"

  Jory clapped a hand over his mouth. "Oh my god," he said through his fingers.

  "That reaction doesn't help. Babe, I'm not strong when it comes to this. If you want out or—or whatever—I need you to say so. I can't watch you slip away from me, and I can't pretend I don't see it."

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before whirling around and snatching some papers off the desk. He crossed the short span between us to stand in front of me. "I wanted this to be a surprise," he said, his gaze not meeting mine. "I wanted to be the one to do something grand and wonderful. I wanted it to be me this time. I wanted to be the hero instead of the one in need of rescue. The one who figured everything out and came up with the big new plan for us. Instead, I've turned it into an actual disaster."

  I studied the frames of his tortoiseshell glasses, his thick, dark brows, the slight pink of his cheeks. And I wondered what the hell he was talking about. "Jory, babe, I don't know what you're trying to say."

  He pressed his hand to my forearm and held up the papers. "I'm trying to tell you I found an apartment. For us to live in. Together."

  I blinked. That wasn't what I was expecting at all. "You're not banging the guy with the Tesla?"

  He reared back, his eyes wide. "Tom? No! Not only would I not do that but his fiancé would literally and truly dismember me."

  I snapped my head up as his words struck me—and knocked my noggin against the door. "Fuck, that hurt," I muttered. "Wait a second. That was Tom? When did he get a Tesla?"

  "That is not the point," Jory cried. "The point is, you thought I was cheating on you! You should know I'd never do that to you."

  "But even when I know, and I should know, I don't really know," I replied. "It doesn't make sense but it's the only truth I know. I'm learning my way out of this hole but I'm still in it, babe. I'm still scared as hell that I'm not enough to keep someone happy, that there's something wrong with me."

  "There's not a single thing wrong with you." Jory pried my arms open and pressed himself against me, tucking his head under my chin the way I liked and gliding his hands over my back in light circles. "You are working through heavy shit, and I'm so proud of you for coming here and asking the hard questions. I know it must've been excruciating to do that and I'm sorry you felt like you had no other option. And I realize it has nothing to do with me, just like my anxiety has nothing to do with you. It's who we are and how we are, and there's nothing wrong with us."

  I let him hold me as those words gradually seeped in, as I became aware of the tension between my shoulder blades and up my neck, as I recognized the cool hardwood beneath my feet. My mouth was dry and there was an unavoidable hint of artificial blueberry flavoring on my tongue. Occasional creaks and rustles from the other side of the door told me Claude was still listening in but that didn't matter. I folded my arms around Jory's body and held him close.

  "You want us to live together?" I asked.

  "Yeah, I do," he replied. "I thought we could get a little place and make it our own. I wanted to get everything set and then surprise you with all my good news but I bungled it instead."

  "And Tom? He helped you find an apartment?"

  "I texted him this morning, right after my meeting with Lauren." Jory glanced up at me, a slight smirk on his face. "You were right, by the way. Everything went well, and she offered me a contract for next year and the position of science chair. Plus, there's a—"

  "Science chair? That is amazing, babe," I said, cupping his cheeks in my hands. "I love that for you."

  "It's gracious of you to refrain from saying I told you so." He glanced at my mouth, and I leaned in because I couldn't ignore a request like that. But I stopped before our lips met. "It would be good if you kissed me now," he whispered.

  "Would it?" I replied. "Do you deserve a kiss because you had a good day? Or because you want to feel better about the misery I experienced at watching you hug some dude today?"

  "He's hardly some dude," Jory said under his breath.

  "I've spent the past few hours thinking that. It's going to take more than a couple of minutes to unwind it all." I traced the line of his upper lip with my thumb. "I'm starting to think I should make you suffer a bit."

  "Promise?" he replied.

  I closed the distance between us and captured his mouth with everything I had, all the fear and the love and the old hurts. I tasted him—and that horrible fake blueberry from the yogurt I'd binged—and those hurts didn't ache so much anymore.

  Love didn't heal wounds or erase histories. It didn't make any of the bad shit go away or prevent it from coming around again. But love made it easier to stand up to those things. Love was there to lean on when times were tough and it was a soft place to land when the world was overwhelming. Love opened its arms to anxiety and fear and all the other broken bits we carried with us and said, "You can put that down now."

  "I'm so sorry you went through these things this afternoon," Jory said between kisses. "I'm sorry I did that to you."

  Since I intended to make good on that punishment, the one that wasn't a punishment at all but rather me working out some possessive energy on Jory and him reaping the benefits, I bit his bottom lip and shoved my fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry I reacted this way and busted your surprise. Someday, I won't even blink when I see you hugging a strange guy and getting in a strange car because every single ounce of me will know better than to doubt you're cooking up something good."

  "Speaking of which." He tipped his head toward the desk. "The reason I was with Tom and ignoring your texts is he knew of an apartment coming on the market that would be perfect for us. He wanted me to see it today before it was opened up to brokers. And it is, it's perfect for us. Top floor in a triple-decker. The entire top floor! Max, seriously, you'd go crazy for this place. It's two bedrooms which is great so we have can have some extra space for an office-slash-exercise-room or something. It has an updated kitchen and new bathrooms and in-unit laundry. Off-street parking is included in the rent and there's even a little shared backyard."

  "Anywhere is an improvement over Mallori's basement but where is this?"

  "It's in Jamaica Plain, right between the Southwest Corridor Park and the Harvard Arboretum. Think about all the walks we could take! You might even convince me to jog one of these days."

  I smiled at his sparkling eyes. "There's a library in that neighborhood."

  "Oh, I know," he replied. "I could walk to the library, Max. Isn't that incredible?"

  "You liked it?"

  "So much," he answered, almost breathless. "You would too. I'm sure of it. But Tom needs to know tonight if we want it. He said he can pull some strings and waive some broker magic to get our application in first."

  "I love you," I said, punctuating those words with a kiss. "And I want to work at being in love with you for a long time. I want to cheer you on at work, and I want to smack your ass at home every night. I need to get better at trust and be better at boundaries." I gestured to my bare feet and the room around us. "As you can see, I have a lot of work to do there."

  Jory laughed as he dropped his forehead to my chest. "I want all of that too."

  "Then let's call your secret boyfriend up and get us an apartment," I said.

  Despite the fact he was laughing, he said, "That is not funny."

  "Maybe not to anyone else but we're allowed a second of dark humor, babe." I surveyed the room as he grabbed his phone. "After you're finished with Tom, you're packing a bag and coming back to Mal's with me. I know it's not awesome in the basement but I want to be with you tonight." I cut a glance toward the door. "And I don't want Claude listening."

  Jory made a sour face at the door. "Don't mind him. He's just salty because I told him I'd be moving out this summer."

  "You already gave notice? Even before telling me about this apartment? Even before getting the apartment?"

  He gave a sweet, boyish shrug that cracked my chest wide open and dug my heart out in one scoop. It was Jory's now and that was it. "I knew I'd find a way to make this work, and for once, I didn't stop to bleed over every last detail of it."

  "What was that like?"

  He tipped his chin up, considering this. "Exhilarating. I'm sure the reason I didn't notice you this afternoon was the blind, terrifying exhilaration of it all. Deciding I wanted to find a place for us and then Tom coming back with an availability before lunch—but I had to act today—was wild. All day long, I just kept saying yes. Yes, science chair. Yes, a yearlong STEAM cohort thing. Yes, an apartment in JP. Yes—"

  "What STEAM thing is this? You didn't mention that," I interrupted.

  He shook his head. "I'll tell you about it later. It's all good news, I promise, but I have to call Tom tonight. I'll cry ugly, snotty tears if we don't get this place. I've already planned an Earth Day party there next spring."

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12